


A Mummer's Game

by SimoneBlack



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forbidden Love, Genderbending, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimoneBlack/pseuds/SimoneBlack
Summary: Brienne had grown up with Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen as exiles on the continent of Essos. It was a hard, mean life. But with a prophetic dream from Daenerys and a few strokes of good luck, Viserys is able to send Brienne on a mission to restore them to their former power in the west: disguise herself as a man and kill Tywin and Jaime Lannister.Jon Sand had been born in Dorne, a bastard of Arthur Dayne. They'd lived their lives as sellswords across the Narrow Sea in Essos, searching for something Jon could not understand. His father refused to tell him of his mother, his family or his past. But when a chance encounter has Jon and his father serving the Targaryen siblings, all the secrets of Jon's past come to light.





	1. Brienne

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfiction! I had to contribute to the amazing ship of Jaime and Brienne. And with the countdown to GoT's finally season closing in, what better time? Fingers crossed that canon-wise, we get the bang that was surely promised. I wanted this story to be heavily inspired by the events in the book and show, with a few liberties taken with location, and time in our history(think early 1900's with electricity but no cars. And radio but no guns). Anyhoo, I really love talking with people. Feel free to drop comments and criticisms etc. And most of all, please enjoy this story!  
>   
> Each chapter I will post a Mood: A song that heavily inspired me while I was writing this story. I hope to have a nice playlist come the end of the story. Please enjoy the music too!
> 
> Mood: [ Crazy Dream- Tom Misch feat. Loyle Carner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sa5HNkGrl8E)  
> 

 

Brienne had killed her first man at the age of two and ten. They were always on the run in Essos. Trying to avoid the usurper's knives, cutpurses, and slavers. The night it happened, had been a rare opportunity when she, her sister Daenerys, and her brother and King Viserys we're able to stay at an inn for a night. Daenerys had had prophetic dreams since she was able to talk, and one was tormenting her then. She'd screamed out in the night, waking Brienne in time to fight off the man who charged through their door. Brienne was still small then, and she'd hopped on him like a monkey, stabbing him with her dagger until he collasped. Daenerys' dreams had saved them that night, and many times more. Her dreams had gotten them coin, when they needed it desperately. Her dreams had kept both her and Brienne out of whorehouses. Her dreams had landed them here at Illyrio Mopatis' manse in Pentos, where they'd lived for the last two years. And now her dreams had the Golden Company arriving to their halls come the end of the week.

They were all waiting on Daenerys in Illyrio's solar. She was seated at his intricately carved marble table, writing down the details of her latest vision. Viserys paced behind her; one way, turn, and then the other. Every once in a while he would stop and glance over Dany's shoulder, and when he saw that she wasn't finished, he would huff and continue his march. Illyrio sat at the head of the table, serenely popping cherries into his mouth. A silver-haired slave woman stood beside him, clad in a shift of clingy silk with a collar around her neck. Brienne leaned against the wall, arms folded over her chest, with her foot propped up; a thing she knew frustrated Illyrio to no end.

Illyrio was fabulously wealthy. His manse was a sprawling marble monster in the heart of Pentos. He had electricity and running water. It still didn't make any sense to either Brienne or Daenerys why he'd accepted them, but he'd hosted them and feasted them with welcome arms. Around them, and all throughout the manse, slaves were scrubbing, cleaning and straightening up in preparation for the Golden Company's arrival.

Finally Daenerys threw down her quill, shaking her hand out and sighing loudly. Viserys was beside her in an instant. “Tell me” he demanded. Dany handed him the sheet of parchment and he read it over. “This is the same thing you told me last time.” He said, annoyed.

Dany shrugged her shoulders. “I told you nothing has changed!” Viserys narrowed his eyes at her. “What about allies?” He asked. “You didn't see any noblemen in Myr or Volantis?” He looked between her and the paper as he questioned her. Dany shook her head. “My dreams come to me as they will. I only saw the golden soldiers marching under dragon's wings. And Brienne facing off with a lion.”

Viserys sighed and ran a hand through his silver-gold hair. “Just so.” he said, speaking to Illyrio. The fat man nodded and Brienne and Daenerys looked at each other in confusion.

“I have a task for you, Brienne.” Viserys told her brusquely. She stepped up beside Daenerys and frowned. “How can I serve you?” she asked him, wary.

Viserys started to pace again, slower this time. “As you know, the Golden Company is our best chance of reclaiming my throne from the usurpers. But the combined power of the Lannisters and the Baratheons is too great without your help.”

Brienne said nothing to that, and just waited for Viserys to explain himself. He stopped and turned to her. “I will need you to go in disguise to King's Landing and kill both Tywin Lannister and the kingslayer, Jaime.”

Her first instinct was to laugh but she held it in because she knew this was no jape. Then as the realization dawned on her, her mouth sagged open. “But I am your sworn sword!” She looked down at her sister Daenerys, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “My place is beside you.” Viserys stalked up to face her. “Your exceptional skills would be the most useful in King's Landing.” He said dangerously calm.

She tried to push down her fear but the words bubbled from her throat. “Surely you want me dead. If you wanted to kill me then you should have given me to the fighting pits or...or put a blade through my throat.” She was rambling. “I would never be able to face the Kingslayer by myself. You told me he was one of the finest swordsmen in the west. And if I even thought about raising a blade to Tywin Lannister, I'd be cut down by one hundred swords.” She stopped herself when she saw Viserys' expression darkening.

At that moment Daenerys clutched her hand and gave it a squeeze. Illyrio Mopatis shifted his great weight in his seat and spoke that moment. “My dear Brienne.” he said in a voice of silk. “Surely you know that we wouldn't put you in any position where you were unprepared. You're far too valuable to be thrown away so roughly. Viserys and I came up with a plan; you will disguise yourself as a man and offer your service to the false royal family. You would ingratiate yourself to them, you would charm them and then you would slay them.”

A wave of shame and humiliation washed over Brienne. Viserys had been the first one to ridicule her for her appearance. It seemed, the moment she'd plunged the dagger into that assassin's throat, all of her femininity died with him. She'd never been a pretty child. But as an adult she was tall and broad, with wide shoulders, too long legs, too limp hair and too many freckles. People would often mistake her for a man. She'd been challenged in the streets of Braavos. She'd broken her nose in a brawl in Lys. And many men, too many, upon learning she was indeed a woman, had tried to rape her to breed strong, strapping sons. None had ever been successful. Except Viserys, who would shatter her with a calm word or warning.

Daenerys squeezed her hand again and said “You know my vision aren't always clear at first. Maybe the dream meant something else. Maybe there's another way.”

That angered Viserys. “You're visions have never been wrong.” He snapped at his younger sister. Then he whirled on Brienne, pointing a finger. “You swore to serve me. If you're unwilling to do as I command you, then I should very well sell you as a wife. As unwomanly as you are, there is someone in Essos who would happily take you on and have you bear their sons.”

Brienne bristled at that and her body tightened up further when she felt Illyrios eyes traveling her body. “Oh yes! I could certainly find someone who would be most fascinated in exploring the strength of your body.” He said stroking his beard in a way that Brienne found extremely obscene. Daenerys tugged on Brienne's hand. “You will always have a place by my side sister.” she said fiercely.

Viserys glared at Dany and barked, “You be quiet.” Then he said to Brienne softly, kindly even, “I know you're scared, sister. We've lived in danger all our lives. But I have to ask you this: what about _your_ vengeance?” He was standing before her. “Are you happy to just wallow around, with all of our futures uncertain, while your people's murderers live freely without justice? Do you think you'll ever truly be safe while they live?”

He made an excellent point. Brienne could see it all again. During Robert's Rebellion, her father refused to include Tarth in the fighting after Prince Rhaegar's wife and children were slain. Robert Baratheon's ass had barely warmed his stolen throne before all the power of the Stormlands and Casterly Rock, fell upon Tarth as a warning to all bannermen who would refuse to follow their liege lord. She'd seen the Stormlanders, who had been her kin at one point, and the red banners of Lannister as they flooded the island. It was a massacre. All of Tarth's warriors, women, and children were put to the sword, and everything on the island was burned.

Brienne remembered the stern, golden face of Tywin Lannister as he entered her castle. Her father Selwyn, and her brother Galladon had been killed trying to defend their small keep. It was her master at arms, Ser Goodwin who'd helped her escape by herself. He put her in a small rowboat in a hidden a crag just below the mountain where her keep stood. He told her to row until she landed on the shores of Dragonstone and presented herself as their liege lady. And so she did. She rowed. With a small satchel full of gold and silver, a bit of dried fish and freshwater, and an official decree from The Lord of Tarth, she rowed. She rode away from the death and carnage and destruction. She rowed even as she saw the smoke rising from what was once her home. She rowed until her little arms burned, as the rain started to pour down on her face and mix with her tears. A day later, she bumped on to the shore of a black castle made of stone dragons. She never knew why they accepted her, but since that day she had been a loyal servant to the Targaryens.

“I haven't forgotten what the Lannisters did to my family. What the usurpers did to my people and my Island!” Brienne said in a loud strong voice. Her face was hot and she knew it was red. She was shaking, and she could feel tears burning the corners of her eyes. It wasn't until Dany squeezed her hand that she remembered she was still holding it. “If I allowed my rage to fade, I would be a failure to my people. To everyone who died so I could live. I will do this thing, my King.” Brienne took a deep breath and bowed her head, to hide the emotion that flooded her.

Viserys was making noises about giving her Casterly Rock as a reward, but she ignored him. Once calm came over her again, Brienne was still vexed. “How would we do this, though? I know no one in King's Landing.”

“I have a very close friend in King's Landing. A man of high position who will assist you every step of the way.” Viserys, who was giddy at Brienne's acceptance said, “And the opportunity for you to get closer to the Lannisters couldn't be better. The dog Tywin, is recruiting for a new guard.”

~~~

That night Brienne sat with Daenerys on her bed. They'd always slept together in inns, alleys and under bridges. Brienne had her own room now but they would tuck each other in each night. Dany was laughing at a joke that Brienne had told. When her chuckles died down, Brienne grew serious. “You were holding back something. Weren't you?” Dany's smile slipped from her face and she went very quiet. It was a long running joke that Brienne was the one who was bad at lying but Dany was easy for her to read.

“I didn't know what to make of it.” Daenerys said slowly. “Was it Quaithe?” Brienne asked her. Dany often mentioned a mysterious masked woman in her dreams named Quaithe. Dany shook her head. “I was surrounded by flames. I was in them. I was on fire. And then there was a great snake before me, poised to strike. A man made of ash appeared. He touched the serpent and it curled up and burned. Then he came towards me. As he approached, his whole body seemed to drink the fire.”

Brienne's eyebrows drew together. Dany's dreams had always been clear enough for her to interpret them and they always came true. “That sounds scary.” Brienne said, shuddering. “Have you thought about what it might mean?”

“Scary, yes.” Daenerys' eyes looked far away. “But I didn't feel afraid. I was in the fire but I didn't burn. I just felt...” she paused, smiled. “It felt nice. I felt strong.”

  
“But what about the snake?” Brienne asked, trying to keep Dany focused. “I don't know. Maybe betrayal? Or triumph over betrayal?” Brienne immediately thought of Illyrio. He'd asked nothing from them, for their stay. Growing up on the streets of Essos, they all knew that no one gave anything away for free. Viserys had promised the Magister lands, gold and position in Westeros, but Illyrio would smile and wave it away. Brienne suddenly felt afraid to leave.

“Would you be upset if I didn't go to King's Landing?” Brienne asked Dany in a small voice. Daenerys' big purple eyes were round and wide as she looked at her, and Brienne braced herself for the anger and scolding she was sure to get. Dany took Brienne's large hand into her own and swiped her thumb over the freckled knuckles. “I know you don't want to leave me.” Dany said softly. “Sisters should not be apart.” They had been sisters from the moment Daenerys could say the word. Earlier even.

“I'd never let Viserys sell you to some man.” Dany said fiercely. “Or, at least, I'd go with you if he did.”

“I've always been big, and ugly. No man would have wanted to marry me anyway.” Dany gave her a queer look at that. Her eyebrows raised and her lips flattened into a displeased line. But she said nothing as Brienne spoke on. “Now to pose as a man...” The insecurities seemed to choke her then. Or maybe it was her tears. Dany swiped one away with her thumb, and Brienne could see her own eyes were flooding.

“It's temporary.” Dany said sniffling. She swept her hands around, indicating the room. “Our staying with Illyrio too. Temporary.” Then her voice went low. Her eyes went lower. “And maybe my time with Viserys...one day. Temporary.”

“Why don't you come with me to King's Landing?” Brienne asked foolishly. In moments like these, Dany had always seemed the bigger sister, though she was five years younger. Dany gave her a watery smile and pinched Brienne's ear. “I'd stand out more than you. And there, you will stand out. You'll shine.” Viserys would have made that sound like an insult. From Dany, Brienne felt special. Unique.

She sighed. “You've never been wrong before.” She said wearily. Then she smiled. “So I fought a great lion?”

“A golden one.” Dany confirmed. “Its pelt covered your whole back.” She sounded like an excited little girl. “Did he have sword in his paw?” Brienne asked, and Dany laughed. Her amethyst eyes sparkled. “Maybe.”

 


	2. Jaime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Jaime! Our cynical friend encounters some more bad luck. Please feel free to leave comments and love. Or not love lol. Let me know how you feel about the story.
> 
> Mood:  
> [Bad Bad News- Leon Bridges](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cztfyj1dVgk)  
> Leon Bridges is a treasure

 

He was alone with his sister in an offshoot bedchamber that had long been abandoned and forgotten. Cersei was seated on the dusty bed, her skirts hiked up high around her waist. Her small clothes lay discarded and abandoned on the floor. Jaime was on top of her, kissing her and pressing himself down between her thighs.

“Gods I needed you Jaime.” Cersei moaned into his ear. This was their last chance to be alone before they made the journey up North. Robert was somewhere in the Kingswood, trying to catch the meat for their going away feast. “Please!” She said, arching into him. “I need to feel you. I need you in me!” Her voice was desperate, her mouth was wet and hot against his ear. He moved his mouth away from her nipple and growled, “I want to touch you first and taste you.”

“Yes please do it.” She agreed. He captured her lips in a bruising kiss, twining his tongue with hers as his hand slid down her body, between her legs where he cupped her mound.

Cersei moaned her encouragement. “Please Jaime! Yes Jaime! Tease me just like that.” She was the master and he was but her servant. He groaned as her legs tightened around his hand. He stroked and petted her, but she wasn't satisfied. She huffed and said, “No this isn't enough. I want to feel you. Take off that glove.” He raised his right hand and glared at his golden glove for just a moment, then caught the finger of the silk between his teeth. As the fabric freed itself from his skin Cersei stopped him again and said, “Wait. Let me close my eyes first.”

He'd accepted that Cersei hated the sight of his hand. But it still hurt, that after all these years she refused to even look at it. He swallowed the shame that her request had filled him with, and continued to pull the glove off. First, with his teeth, and then all the way off with his left hand. The silken fabric revealed the ruin of his right hand; burns snaked up from his fingers to his elbow. Blackened and crisp, with red cracks, even though they've been damaged twenty years before hand.

Once the garment was off him and on the floor, his hand returned to her cunt. He stroked and petted her petals while Cersei panted. “Yes! Please! Oh!” She sighed breathlessly. Her eyes were still closed. He pressed one finger into her and then another and Cersei rotated her hips at the feel of him stretching her open. “Jaime that's just what I need! You're just what I need. Touch me. It's so good! Yes!” She started to move against his hand. It was all he could do to keep from palming himself with his left hand. Seeing the emotions run across her beautiful face; the bliss, the pleasure, the wince of pain. He pushed his wrist forward so that he could go deeper into her. So that he could stoke her fire further.

Cersei kept moaning and writhing against his hand. “Please Jaime! Soon, soon. Just a little bit more.” She said, but then her expression changed. “Oh! Ouch. Ow! Stop! Stop! Get off of me!” She yelled. Her hands went down to his and she yanked him away from her. “You were hurting me!” She roared at him furiously. “Couldn't you feel what you were doing?” She demanded.

Jaime looked at his hand. His burned fingers glistened with Cersei's juices. “No.” He said, deeply troubled. His fingers were numb and stiff, and when he tried to move them they wouldn't do as he commanded. “I couldn't feel anything.”

~~~

“And what about here. Can you feel what I'm doing here?” Grand Maester Pycelle asked as he rolled the spiked pinwheel along Jaime's middle finger and then his ring finger. “Nothing.” Jaime grumbled. He'd expected the little spikes to make him flinch back in pain, or at least prick him to irritation, but all he felt was a slight tickling tingly feeling where they rolled over his skin.

The stooped old wizard Pycelle held Jaime's right hand by the wrist and told him to make a fist. Jaime tried to curl his fingers down into a hard fist but only his forefinger and thumb obeyed. His last three fingers twitched and then went still.

“Again.” Pycelle instructed. Feeling agitated, Jaime tried again and his hand disobeyed him once again. “Hmm, hmm.” Pycelle grumbled ponderously as he went his desk to write notes on Jamie's condition. “So what's going on?” Jaime asked.

The old man said nothing and continued scrawling on the parchment. When the time stretched on so long that Jaime thought he had forgotten him, Pycelle said, “I believe there may have been some latent nerve damage, caused by your burns, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime suppressed a sigh. Of course, the Kingslayer was so wretched that he would one day suffer for his crime of saving the city. He could see it again in his mind's eye. He'd cut the king's throat as he was reciting, “Burn them all!” over and over again. Next, Jaime chased down Rossart the Pyromancer and ran him through as he was going to ignite his wildfire. Jaime hadn't realized how close he was when he'd killed the alchemist. Rossart already had a pot of the green death in his hand when Jaime impaled him. There was a flash of green as Jaime's arm exploded in fire. He'd screamed as the flames licked up his arm and fell to the floor to roll the fire out. It must have been the gods, or someone blessed with sense. At that same instant there was a voice; cooing soothing words to Jaime, and immediately the flames that were burning him were suppressed by a chalky clay substance. Jaime had never seen the man or woman or person who put out the flame. And when he'd sought out and killed the other pyromancers in the city, he never found the person who'd saved him then either. Unless they were dead. When he woke up Maester Pycelle himself was heading his care and said that the damage was minimal. Within a moon's turn Jaime was able to resume his duties as a kingsguard.

 _I guess I had to pay for that treason eventually_ , he thought ruefully, trying to squeeze his hand again. “I'm going to give you some stinging ointment for now. It should help return feeling to your hand and fingers.” Old Pycelle said, spreading a minty smelling oil over his hand and fingers. It did tingle and then it burned slightly. By the end of the session, Jaime was able to wiggle his fingers slightly.

Before he left the old man, he said to Pycelle, “I appreciate you doing this Maester.” He stood over Pycelle, using his height and build as a warning. “Best if we kept this interaction between ourselves.” He left Pycelle's chamber hoping that he would never have to revisit, though the jar of ointment laid heavy in his pocket.

~~~

Hours later, after he'd taken his supper, a messenger knocked on his room door. “My Lord, your father would have audience with you immediately in his solar.” Jaime had to laugh at Pycelle's persistence. _Meddlesome, gray rat_ , he thought sourly as he made his way to Maegor's holdfast.

Lord Tywin Lannister had not been the hand of the king for many years, and wouldn't be even now. But his banks, which were established across five regions in the realm, had required Tywin to be ever close to the king. “Jaime.” his father said when Jaime entered the solar.

“Father.” Jaime intoned, taking a seat at Tywin's immense oaken desk. The room was well lit, with electric lamps hung on the wall every few feet. Lord Tywin's own desk lamp was shining dimly on the edge of the desk.

“To what do I owe this honorable visit?” Tywin scowled at the sarcasm, then he sat behind his desk and tented his fingers over his parchment and quills. “I've learned you lost your ability to fight.” Tywin did not mince words, and his green eyes pinned Jaime in his chair.

Jaime forced a good-natured smile. He tightened his fist that he now had feeling in. He was wearing his golden silk glove again. “You're misinformed, father. I'm as good a sword as always.” He wiggled the fingers of his right hand for emphasis. Tywin looked to Jaime's hand as though it were a mouse near his dinner. “You're getting on in your years, Jaime, and your injury slows you further.” Jaime opened his mouth to interrupt but Tywin held up a hand to freeze the words in his throat. “It's time that you set aside your white cloak, and claim your place as the lord of Casterly Rock.”

The smile never left Jaime's face, it only tightened. “But there already is a 'Lord of Casterly Rock.” He deepened his voice to imitate Tywin's. As usual his father was not amused. The glare he gave Jaime could melt dragonglass. “And if I set aside my white cloak, I'd have to set aside my life as well. As you know, my service to the king is for life.”

“And should your sword hand fail again? I wonder how great of service you'll be if you can't control, your fingers.” Jaime curled his right hand into a hard, strong fist. That stung. Jaime stood up to leave and made a mock stretch as though he were weary. In truth he was. “Well, father this talk was quite prodigious. I'll see you in the morning then?”

“I don't think that you will. You have arrangements to finish.” Tywin said behind him. Jaime turned back. His father had not moved from his place at the desk. “I do have arrangements to make,” Jaime said feeling dread low in his belly. “For our trip North.”

He could see the trap. He could feel it closing in around him. “Winterfell?” Tywin said so softly Jaime had to strain his ears to listen. “When I have this royal decree from his grace King Robert, for you to stay behind, to train the Red Swords?” He raised a paper from the desk. “No. Winterfell is beyond your concern.”

Jaime's boots scuffed loudly as he made his way back to his father's desk. He grabbed the parchment and read. It took him a moment, deciphering the symbols until they made sense. And they gave him a sense of rage. He clenched his jaw as he met his father's gaze. “Well you certainly work fast, father.” Jaime conceded in a strained voice.

Tywin blinked at him. The shrewdness belied the innocence in the expression. “What better way could a king's sworn sword protect his person, than protecting his gold and treasures?” Tywin asked, eyes never leaving Jaime's face. “As much as the king spends on folly he'd need a man of skill, and courage to protect him from himself.”

It took everything, absolutely everything , every bit of his self control not to rage and yell and knock all his father's shit to the floor. Tywin had been assembling the Red Swords for a fortnight. They were men set to be trained to defend the Lannister Banks, that had sprung up around Westeros like mushrooms over the last decade. The Riverlands, The Reach, the Stormlands, the Kingsland and of course, the Westerlands had one in every major city.

The call, had been for all of Westeros' best swords, so that there was no one to defend their homeland. But beyond that, Jaime knew that the call for the Red Swords was for the Lord of Winterfell. The only place that hadn't accepted to build a Lannister Bank was the North. Tywin would be sure to have his Red Swords stationed all about Ned Stark when he came to take his position as Hand of the King. It was a cruel but effective way of assuring the man's acquiescence. And an annoyance for the capital surely. Jaime gave it a week before King's Landing was flooded with pig boys, field hands and hedge knights thirsty for gold.

“Why not my cousin Daven or Uncle Kevan?” Jamie asked. “They're perfectly capable of running your personal army for you.”

“No.” The word cracked like dry wood. “It would be unseemly for a man of the family to run the Red Swords for the crown. No the king needs a man who's devoted to his selfless duty to take on such a task.” Jaime wanted to argue for his other Kingsguard brothers, but he knew this was one that he would not win no matter how glib his tongue was. _What would Tyrion say_? He thought.

Tywin tucked the paper back in with his other important documents and folded his hands neatly atop them on the on the desk. “Now if you had decided to forsake your vows and took on your rightful place, that would be something different.” _Oh yes_ , Jaime thought, _the jaws of the trap had him tightly around his legs_. He smiled that cutting smile again and said, “I thank you Father for the great honor. I'll be sure to discuss it with the King and offer him a better suggestion.”

There was almost a shadow of a hint of a smile on Tywin' face. “I'm sure the King will be glad to hear it from you. He doesn't know about your injuries and current condition, but I'm sure his ears will light up at such an honest confession. The court should be quite interested as well.” And now there was no chance of escape.

Jaime bowed to his father. “Good night, my Lord.” _And well played_ , he thought sourly.

~~~

Back in his quarters Jaime punched his wall with his right hand, and relished the shock of pain that ran from his fist to his elbow. His bedside lamp was giving off a low glow in the room. His radio was playing a sweet song in the corner. It was almost at an end. His brother's voice crackled onto the waves. “And that was a Myrish jazz rendition of the Lusty Lad.” Tyrion Lannister said through the speaker. Jaime began to strip off his white things, listening. “As I have made you aware, I will be going on a short holiday to the North for a moon's turn. I hope you will enjoy my assistant Poderick Payne's service to you as Master of Communication in that short time. Say hi, Pod.”

There was a sound of shifting from the radio, and then a meek, soft voice squeaked through the speakers. “Hi...e..everyone.”

“Very good, Pod.” Jaime smirked, hearing the exasperated sarcasm in Tyrion's voice. “And if you're looking to start a new career earning two gold dragons a week, I'd like to remind you that recruitment for the Red Swords will begin next week. Make your way to King's Landing before the-”

  
Jaime shut the radio off feeling irritated. He considered his burned arm. It smelled strongly of the fresh coat of stinging ointment Pycelle had given him. _How was he supposed to keep the damn silk of his golden glove from staining_? he mused. Then he climbed into bed in his small clothes, wondering what Cersei would think of this, and hoped he could talk to her alone before she left for the North.

 


	3. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon reflects on his mysterious past and his evasive father, Arthur Dayne.
> 
> Mood:   
> [Navajo- Masego](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fuAE3U1NvOs&index=23&list=RDSa5HNkGrl8E)

Jon Sand had been born in Dorne eight and ten years ago, though his earliest memories had been of the inns in Essos. For all of his life, he and his father, Arththur Dayne had travelled from city to city gaining coin for the skills they laid upon their blades. It really was Dayne, who earned their living. Though now, and for the last few years, Jon was allowed to use a sword to aid in their survival.

When he was a boy, his father would leave him in their rooms at the inns they stayed at, or with innkeepers and wet nurses he trusted. Jon would wait for his father all day. Back then, Jon would wait with his caretakers for word of his father's death, or for Dayne to just disappear. But his father never failed him. Usually at night, Dayne would stumble in, covered in blood from wielding his legendary milk-glass sword, Dawn. Then he would place the blade down on a dresser, or or a bed, or anywhere he could lay it flat and like a prayer he would say, “I'm keeping my vows. I'm keeping my vows.” Over and over again until he was sure that the he'd convinced himself that it was so.

Jon never understood what his father meant by that. And he never understood anything about himself either. Arthur Dayne had vehemently refused to tell Jon about his mother or his family, whom he knew was from Westeros. All he knew was that his father had a family somewhere in Dorne, that he'd left behind and barely spoke of. What was worse was that Jon looked nothing like his father. He always imagined that his mother was some Lysene woman; probably a whore, though his father took no women to his bed. But Jon was a bastard; that was certain. Though his father never used the word, and never treated him like one. Jon had purple eyes, and while his father had skin the color of dry sand and light brown hair, Jon was fair-skinned with dark hair. He asked his father if he resembled his mother: if he had her eyes, or any other features, but his father would just shake his head. Once, Dayne had told Jon he'd gotten his purple eyes from his aunt, Ashara.

When Jon was around two and ten, his father allowed him to serve as his squire. Dayne and Dawn had gained a reputation in the east and they were soon picked up by the Golden Company. They'd served with the mercenary troupe ever since. Now Jon was a sellsword all his own and would take up missions by his father's side as an equal. And as his equal, John was able to sit at the table of the great leaders of the Golden Company.

Right now the leaders of the Golden Company were all seated together in a tent outside of Tyrosh, discussing the news of a new deal that had been laid at their feet.

“I have good tidings for you, my lords.” Harry Strickland exclaimed to the group. He waved the sheet of paper as he took his seat at the head of the table that had been positioned in the tent. “We've been called upon again by the Beggar King.” He let out a bark of laughter and some of the other company members joined him.

“And what promises does he plan to pay us with this time?” The Summer Islander Black Balaq, asked over a cup of strongwine.

Strickland shook his head. “The boy didn't say. All he said was that he has an offer that we can't refuse, and that he's in need of our help to take back Westeros with Fire and Blood.” Jon noticed that his father sat up more alertly. Arthur Dayne took hold of Jon's wrist and his hand tightened.

The cadaverous Volantene Gorys Edoryen spoke. “Fire and blood is what he came to us with all those years past. You'd think the fool had learned. Fire and blood cannot jangle in our pockets. Would that I could pay a whore with fire and blood, or buy a night at an inn. But those things are just empty words, as empty as the purple eyed fool.”

“Do you know what happened to him after he approached you?” Arthur Dayne asked the other leaders.

Harry Strickland gave Dayne a queer look and shrugged. “He disappeared after he tried to enlist our services. I thought he would have died in the mean streets of Essos. Or at least after the coin for selling his sister dried up.”

Gorys Edoryen laughed at that. “Desperate little wretch. He was even willing to offer the cunt of his little sister to us, even though she had teats the size of coins! But she was a pretty thing then. I wonder if her cunt would be worth it now if we were to take on assignment for him.”

Dayne's fingers were digging into Jon's arm now. He shook his father's hand a little bit and his father loosened his grip.

“But this time the Beggar King sends his request from the halls of Illyrio Mopatis” The Lyseni spymaster Lysono Maar said in a silken voice. He was an exotic, feminine man with silver-gold hair, lilac eyes and full pouty lips. The way he spoke sent shivers down John's spine.

Harry Strickland stroked his beard thoughtfully. “So the spice merchant is backing him? We wouldn't have to worry for gold if that were so.”

“We must go at once!” Arthur Dayne said, nearly standing out of his chair. Jon looked to his father with confusion. The leader of the golden company smiled at Arthur. “Now, now. Calm yourself, Dayne. I know why you'd be so eager to see these so-called dragonlords.”

Jon was utterly confused as he looked from his father to the other members of the Golden Company. He knew to say nothing though. Not now.

His father argued his point, though. “You said it yourself. This Mopatis is backing him, and the dragon prince says that they have an offer that can't be refused. It must be that they've earned enough coin to employ us. The least we could do is hear them out.”

The other lords of the Golden Company spent some long minutes discussing if this was a good idea. Dayne hadn't spoken since then but Jon could see that he was watching them, tense as a bowstring. Finally they came to a decision and Strickland announced, “Fine! We will hear what this dragon prince has to say. But if he comes to us with empty hands it'll be the last time we ever give him a chance to take back his kingdom.” They all murmured their assent and adjourned for the day.

Jon knew to wait to speak to his father when they were safely inside their tent. As soon as the flap had closed the words bubbled up to his lips. “Father, what was that all about?” he asked as Arthur stripped himself of his sword and then unsheathed it. Dayne didn't answer him, but placed his sword on the wooden trunk that they brought with them on their travels. He fell to his knees pressed his hands together in prayer. Jon was about to ask his father again when Dayne began to weep.

If the stranger himself had appeared and dangled his cock for them to see, Jon would have been less surprised. He'd only seen his father cry once in the privacy of their inn room after he'd received word that Jon's aunt, Ashara Dayne had died. His father was crying now, weeping with abandon and through his sobs he would mumble, “I've kept my vows. I've kept my vows. I've kept my vows.”

~~~

The trip to Pentos was rather fast even though the Golden Company was ten thousand strong. Most of the men were camped outside the city. This Illyrio Mopatis had hosted the lords of the Golden Company in his immense manse, though. Jon was welcomed as well, by grace of his father's prowess. Jon had been hosted in such luxury before. He'd been in palaces with light, running water and servants there to serve him, thanks to his father's work. But this was different. Here in Pentos. Jon was treated as though he wielded the sword Dawn, along with the other members of the Golden Company, though they were equally as unworthy as he was.

He had his own room, in a corridor that housed the other leaders. But the dragon prince and Illyrio had not stopped there. Their rooms had been decked out with gifts of daggers with hilts silver and jewels. They were given dragon broaches with ruby eyes. There were Westerosi style doublets and breeches of the finest supple leather. And a set of light armor, as fine as the clothes.

The first day they arrived. The dragon prince Viserys had feasted them lustily with quails baked with honey , roasted peacock in its plumage, hot peppers with onions, rivers of summer island rum, red and white wine from the Westerosi Arbor, and a cold sweet cream for dessert. The storied, beautiful princess Daenerys had not been present at that dinner, but Viserys and Mopatis did not leave their guests wanting for female company.

They had been served by female slaves exclusively. Though Jon knew slavery was illegal in Pentos, but he could tell the women's status by the gold collars they wore as they carried trays and flagons of drink. They were all clad in sheer silks, their skin varying in hues from moon pale to shale black. All were lovely, and unspokenly, available for the golden Company's pleasure. Jon ignored the flirtations of the servants, just as his father did, and kept an eye on Viserys and Illyrio instead. It seemed the fat man was always whispering to him, when Viserys was not joking with his brothers of the Golden Company. At one point Jon swore that Illyrio had lifted his chin toward Jon and his father both, and Viserys stared at them for a long moment, but nothing came of the look and it was forgotten.

When Jon had retired to his room that first night, one of the servants slipped quietly into his room, and out of her silken shift. It was another gift from Viserys, he knew. He sent the young woman away, unswayed by her pouts and frowns, though his cock was hard as a spear. The soft feather bed he fell into didn't make it any easier . And as he drifted off, he imagined if the princess was as beautiful.

~~~

The next day, after they'd broken their fast on chopped eggs with pepper, bacon, blueberries, Myrish coffee and for some of his brothers, female company, Viserys called for their meeting. They adjourned to Illyrio's solar, a large airy room with a carved marble table and dim electric lights every few feet along the wall. Viserys was seated at the head of the table.

“Please sit, my good men.” He said amiably with a gesture. Illyrio was seated at his right side. At first glance, Jon thought the one standing behind him was a man, but on second look he realized it was a woman. She was a tall, plain-faced blonde dressed in leather tunic and breeches. To his left, Viserys had seated his sister, Daenerys Targaryen. She bowed politely and took her seat with a sweet word. There was no lie to the rumors at all, Jon had realized as he watched her . Viserys' sister was as beautiful as a dream. Her skin was alabaster, her face, the shape of a heart. She had plush, pink lips and high cheekbones. Her hair was a silver waterfall that hung past her shoulders. And her eyes...they were an even deeper purple than his own. She was old Valyria in the flesh.

“My lords,” Viserys said politely. “I am most pleased and gracious for your audience.” Gorys Edoryen agreed. “Not as pleased as I am!” He said with a laugh and grabbed a serving woman, pulling her down into his lap as she gasped. Jon noticed movement out the corner of his eye. Daenerys looked stiff as armour and glared at the man.

“Spare us the platitudes, dragon prince.” Harry Strickland said roughly. “Its our swords you want.” Viserys ignored and spoke through the rudeness smoothly. “Indeed, it is your swords I need.” Someone opened their mouth to interrupt but Viserys made a gesture that silenced them. “I know I came to you before with only words, but I assure you, in the interim my hands have not been idle.”

“How so?” Strickland asked just as gruff and skeptical as before. “Do you plan to pay us with pretty trinkets and whores?”

“Gifts, whores, land, titles and more. When we take the seven kingdoms, I will see you all well rewarded.” Viserys affirmed. “Illyrio here is happy to vouch for me.” He gestured to his right. The fat merchant, Illyrio shifted and spoke. “I have been given the honor of funding King Viserys in all his endeavors and all your needs, my lords. Everything he says is just so, but in order to seize the endless wealth of Westeros, we'll need your help in taking it.”

A murmur went around the table as the Golden Company discussed in hushed voices. No one spoke to Jon, and his father spoke to no one. Arthur Dayne looked as tight as a wire, and when Lysono Maar tried to engage him in the conversation, he ignored the Lysene man entirely. Jon realized that for the entire meeting, his father had been staring at the dragons, on the verge of bursting like a ripe fruit.

And Jon saw that Illyrio was whispering to Viserys again, and the two of them were looking at him and his father. “We'll accept the contract.” Harry Strickland announced, when the voices of his men died down. “So long as we receive a portion of payment in advance.”

“It would please me to no end.” Illyrio responded, stroking his long golden beard. “I'd be more pleased to host your party here until you are ready to make your departure.”

“Yes! A pleasure indeed!” Gorys said distractedly, dandling the serving woman on his lap. “We thank you then, my king. The Golden Company is at your service.” Strickland said.

“There is just one other thing.” Viserys said, and his voice became rough and deep. He fixed Arthur Dayne with his lilac eyes. “Ser Arthur, why are you being so quiet?” Everyone looked to him, including Jon himself.

Dayne dropped from his chair to the floor on one knee. “My king, I have searched for you for so long.” Jon's father said. “You've grown into such a man I can scarce recognize you.”

“Yet I know you all the same.” Viserys said coldly. “You abandoned us when we were banished from the west.” Jon's mouth fell open as he gazed at his father. Arthur Dayne shook his head so harshly Jon feared his neck would twist. “I exiled myself to these lands when I heard you had crossed the sea. I've searched and searched for you, for years. Every time I got word of you and your sister I tried to find you but I was always a step behind. But now I've found you. And I promise you, since the day you were born I have kept my vows and will continue to do so.”

The words made sense to Jon then. He and his father weren't lost, they were searching. A stab of pain went through Jon's heart as he looked down at his father. No, _he_ was searching. Jon had just been born and dragged along for the ride. “I swear my sword and shield, my body and blood. I will give you honest council and guard your secrets from now until my death.” His father finished.

Everyone was stunned and silent. Viserys still looked angry though. He opened his mouth to say something, but his sister, Daenerys spoke over him. She'd been so quiet that Jon actually forgot she was there. “We thank you so much, Ser Arthur. And we gladly accept your service. Arise Ser, as a member again of the Kingsguard.” Her voice was strong, and clear as stream water. Her smile was so brilliant, that Jon quivered, remembering how his men of the Golden Company had spoken of her. Arthur did so, and thanked Daenerys heartily. He promised to protect her for all of his days, and further.

Viserys spoke up again. “This was a momentous meeting, my lords. And to celebrate and solidify the good will of our arrangement, I would like to invite you all as honored guests to our wedding, when I take my sister Daenerys as my queen and my wife.” Around the table there rose a cheer and cups were raised in toast. Jon only had eyes for Daenerys at that moment, who looked alarmed; wide eyed and scared. _He hadn't told her_ , Jon realized, sadly.

  
  


 

 


	4. Brienne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I was hoping to post this chapter before the season premiere, but life and things got in the way. Ah well! I hope that you all are doing good. Please enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Mood: [Come Meh Way- Sudan Archives](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLPGMb35ubk)  
> This is a very special song to me. It's lit, she films it in Accra, Ghana(a special place for me) and she plays violin. Need I say more? Give it a listen!

"No! Not like that!" Viserys scolded, grabbing Brienne by the wrist and pulling her backward. "Like this." He demonstrated, walked in a straight line, then he looked over his shoulder at her. "See?"

Dany laughed when Brienne tried to tromp forward, imitating Viserys. Brienne shot her an annoyed look. Viserys sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" Brienne cried, throwing her hands up.

They were in Illyrio's solar, and Viserys was giving Brienne 'man lessons'.

"Brienne, there's nothing wrong with the way you walk." Dany called to her. Viserys glared at his little sister. "Its just a walk!" Daenerys said. Shrugging her shoulders.

Viserys rolled his eyes and turned back to Brienne. "Do it again." He instructed her. Brienne barely took two steps before Viserys was barking at her again. "No, no, no!" He waved his arm at her, and looked to Illyrio for help. " Please tell her what she's doing wrong!"

Illyrio was seated in a massive cushioned chair. Brienne could not remember the last time she'd seen him standing. "You have too much of a sway in your hips, my lady." He said, stroking his yellow beard.

Brienne sighed. She sat down next to Dany, exasperated. "Do you really think the way I walk is going to give me away, and not _everything else_? I have breasts! How am I supposed to bathe?"

Dany spoke up, nudging Brienne's shoulder. "Just carry yourself with confidence like a man does. Men don't care about how they look or the way they walk, they just go on acting how they wish." Then she lowered her voice so only Brienne could hear, "And I wouldn't worry about your breasts. Illyrio has bigger teats than the both of us and look how he carries himself!" At that they both broke out in laughter.

Viserys curled his lip at them. " Daenerys, leave!" He growled, pointing to the hallway. Dany tried to protest but Viserys fixed her with an icy glare and said, "Go." She left, giving Brienne a rueful look. Then he rounded on her. "Get up and do it again. And be serious this time!"

~~~

Brienne had wanted to stay for Dany's wedding but both Illyrio and Viserys had insisted that she should leave immediately, if not sooner. "There's a cut off. My man tells me that sign ups will fill quickly." Illyrio had told her in their meeting, after Viserys announced the wedding.

She only had three more days to spend with her sister, but Viserys had filled her days with preparation. His focus was teaching her to not only appear as a man, but behave as one too. "Don't slouch like that! It makes your meager teats more obvious. They're bumping against your shirt!" Viserys had scolded her at dinner. "Gods! Have you always been so ungainly?" It was torture.

The day after the marriage announcement they cut Brienne's hair. She'd always worn it shorter than her shoulders, and had no real attachment to the lank yellow strands, but when they cut it, it crushed her. She was sat down in a chair and a slave was ordered to shave her. Daenerys was with her, and blessedly, Viserys was not. The servant started at her scalp, and as the razor sheared away Brienne's hair she started to cry. She cried in fear, and shame. She cried for the last shreds of her womanhood being shorn away. It was unfair and too sudden. Daenerys took her hand and smiled a sad, sweet smile. "Temporary." She'd said, giving her a squeeze. Then Brienne sucked up her tears and let the exasperated slave finish. When they were done, her hair was a fine, yellow peach fuzz.

Viserys had her training for hours, during those last days. "You have to be strong to face the Kingslsyer." He'd told her. "Else he'll slice through you like roast." Brienne welcomed the challenge. She wanted to be as prepared as possible for the grizzly task ahead. Viserys sent Illryio's guards to train with her, and not the new guards from the Golden Company, as he didn't want any potential traitors sharing their plans. She'd fought with Illyrio's guards before, but now she was facing them two and three at a time in a spacious private chamber somewhere in Illyrio's manse. She fell into bed each night, bruised, bloody and anxious.

~~~

The night before Brienne's departure, Dany walked her to her bed chamber. They walked slowly, heavy from their meal and giddy from the extra wine they'd drank at supper. She knew Daenerys had asked the cooks to make Brienne's favourite dishes; sizzling sausage straight off the spit, topped with peppers, onions and a cool cucumber sauce. When they were in Brienne's sleeping chamber, Dany flopped down on the bed as though it were hers.

"It will be so cold without you here!" Dany said, pretending to cry.

Brienne landed on the bed beside her. "You'll have plenty of company when I'm gone. Your handmaidens will take care of you."

Daenerys looked sad behind her smile. "It won't be the same." She changed the subject. "You're going on a huge adventure! We'll write to each other every week. I'll..I'll even try to find someone to send secret messages between us."

"Do you have anyone special we can trust?"

"No." Dany said goofily, sticking out her tongue. "I'll find someone though. When I do, you have to tell me everything about the west."

Brienne nodded, "I will."

Daenerys shook her head. "No, I mean it. You must tell me everything you learn about Westeros. Its people, its customs."

"I said I will!" Brienne said, laughing. She poked Dany in the ribs. "Why so serious?"

Daenerys poked her back. "Be-cause." Poke, poke. "Viserys and I know nothing about our homeland. I've only read things in books, but it's not enough. I'll need you to explore for me. Learn the people, see what they need so that when we come and take the kingdoms, we can give it to them."

Brienne grinned, feeling proud. "You have my word, my queen." She gave her sister one last victory poke. Dany laughed. "That's going to take some time getting used to. I don't feel like that, you know? Like a...a..."

Brienne understood. "I know." They spent the rest of the night laughing and gossiping, giving each other comfort and advice, until they both fell asleep.

~~~

The predawn gloom made the docks foggy and damp when they saw Brienne off. She promised herself she wouldn't cry; not in front of Viserys and the others. She said goodbye to everyone else first before her sister. Viserys gave her an awkward sidelong hug and whispered, "You must not fail. Clear the path for us, sister." She swallowed her discomfort. Then she nodded respectfully to Arthur Dayne and his dark haired son. Illyrio waved from the street, where his slaves had parked his palanquin.

When Brienne turned to Daenerys, her eyes watered. _Damn_. Dany kissed her on both cheeks. "Stay safe, sister." She hugged her tightly and whispered in Brienne's ear, "Don't hesitate to come home, if you need to."

"I know." Briennes voice wavered. "When we come, we'll take care of them." Dany said. "Remember? Your promise?"

Brienne nodded her head. "I remember."

The captain called for final boarding. Brienne sighed heavily. "Don't take too long coming." She said to them. Then she walked up the boarding plank and onto the ship. Dany waved at her for what seemed like an hour as the ship backed away from the shore. Brienne watched her and waved back, until they disappeared from view.

~~~

It took four days for _Shield-Dancer_ to make it across the Narrow Sea. A fast journey and blessed, the captain had told Brienne, whenever she showed her face aboard ship, which wasn't often. She spent most of her days in the solitary privacy of her cabin, which Illyrio had instructed her to do. “There are no greater gossips than sailors. " he'd said, leering at her thighs.

Brienne occupied her time crying into her pillow, honing her stiletto sword to a deadly edge, and watching the water from her cabin window. The ship made landfall in King's Landing on the morning of the fifth day. Brienne stepped off the dock, rolling her chest of clothes behind her.

She was immediately greeted by a familiar smell that made her eyes water. It was the spices of the east. Roasted meat, incense and oils. She walked up a street and felt almost at home again. Vendors were selling their wares, calling out in Valyrian dialects. There were Myrish carpet sellers, a grill offering dog on skewers, and a stand selling polished silver from Qarth. She was hungry. She wandered through the streets until she found a small cookshop that served her favourite sausages with the cool cucumber sauce. Once she had her food in hand she took a seat in a dark corner of the crowded dining hall and ate, wondering what her next course of action would be. Illyrio had told her that his man would meet her, but hadn't said where or when.

A woman took the seat beside her. There was nothing particularly special about her; her hair was a wave of long, black curls. She wore a plain purple dress and had a smooth, pale, moon-like face. The only thing distinct about her was the cloying perfume of lavender, that almost put Brienne off her appetite.

Just as Brienne was turning away to eat her meal, the woman turned toward her. "It seems we're both hiding as the opposite sex today." She said in a voice that was absolutely unfeminine. Brienne's blood froze as she dropped her sausage. A hand went to her sword belt as she said, "What was that?" To the strange man dressed as a woman.

He gave Brienne's stance a critical look and tutted. "No that wouldn't be wise. Bringing that kind of attention to yourself would derail your plans before they even started."

A trickle of sweat rolled down Brienne's back, underneath her loose tunic. "What do you want?" She found herself whispering.

The man in drag sighed sadly. "Illryio told me you were strong and brave. I was hoping you'd be quick-witted as well."

"Illyrio?" Brienne said, feeling pinpricks of relief ripple throughout her body. "So you're his man?" She eyed him in question and his lips peeled into a smile. "Lord Varys." He purred. "Spymaster of the royal small council of King Robert Baratheon."

Brienne had to bite her lip to keep her jaw from dropping. She'd known that Illyrio's friend was a man of access, but she'd thought he might have been a servant or in some other position. Not an actual royal advisor! That explained why he was dressed as a woman. 

"What will you do if someone questions you? What answers will you give to throw off suspicion?"

"I...I... " Brienne tried but Varys patted her hand and tutted again.

"My friend Illyrio has much to answer for. Viserys is too rash for his own good." He held up a finger and said, "Look at me."

When she did, he took her by the chin and observed her face. He turned her head side to side. "So, who are you?" He asked her, which she felt was foolish, as he seemed to know already.

"Im Bri--" she stopped short, realizing how incomplete the plan was. A glint flashed in Varys' eye as he let her face go. "There's that wit." His smile made her uneasy.

"Listen close and remember all that I say." He told her. "You are Brennan Waters, an orphan of Little Essos."

"Where's that?" Brienne asked him, taking a bite into her sausage. Varys spread his pale hands. "Why, here. Of course." He gave a giggle.

"I thought this was King's Landing?"

"Little Essos is part of King's Landing. A section of twelve streets and alleys filled with the escaped slaves of Essos who made it west, and their descendants."

"I'm Westerosi." Brienne explained to him. Varys looked over her face and shrugged. "You look Westerosi, but your accent is thick with bastard Valyrian. There are a thousand sad children as yourself who grew up in this neighborhood."

"Okay." Brienne sighed. "What else?"

"I've secured your place as one of the Red Swords. You must check in two days hence at first light to meet your commanders."

Brienne chewed her lip, listening.

"Taking out Tywin Lannister will be your first priority. He is the most valuable and dangerous of your targets. Killing Jaime first would raise his suspicions, no doubt. You'll most likely need my help in that. When I'm able to secure the best opportunity for it, I will let you know. That is, unless you can impress Jaime Lannister enough to gain access to him. Perhaps you can kill them at the same time." Varys shrugged.

Brienne nodded, trying to lock away the dread she was feeling.

"Until then, you'll need to spend your time here in Little Essos and around King's Landing. You'll need to know this city like the back of your hand, since you've spent your entire life here, right?"

"Right." Brienne agreed, remembering Dany's words. _Learn the people, learn the land_. She'd told her. Brienne wondered if she'd ever see her sister's face again.

"Sleep at the Black Eel Inn these next two nights. They have a good reputation of not remembering who comes and goes through their establishment. And I'll need your sword."

"My sword?" Brienne's hand went to the blade at her hip out of reflex. The fine stiletto Viserys and Illyrio had gifted her.

"Yes. Best not to raise questions on how a Little Essos bastard got his hands on such quality steel." Varys said seriously, holding a powdered hand out to her.

Reluctantly, Brienne unhooked her sword belt and handed it over. She felt naked immediately. Varys stood. "Well I'll leave you to your meal. I trust that a King's Landing man like yourself will find your way to the Black Eel easily?"

Brienne nodded again. "We'll see each other soon, Brennan Waters." Varys said in parting, and swept away.

Brienne sat there for some long moments, watching her food cool on her plate. She had to do this. Dany told her days ago, that she would wear a lion's pelt, cloaked around her shoulders. She _would_ succeed. Then she hardened her heart and set out for her task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm waiting for the series finale to watch the whole GoT Season so please don't share any spoilers in the comments! Thanks!


	5. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is Dany's wedding! There's music and food and gifts! And finally Daenerys and Jon meet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I wanted to post this chapter much earlier. Unfortunately, my step-father died suddenly last week. I've gone back home, helping my mother take care of their four children. It's been so hard... Anyway I kept writing. I figure I can replace the tears with words. This may not be my best writing but I hope you'll enjoy anyway.
> 
> I haven't watched any of the new Game of Thrones episodes for obvious reasons. So please no spoilers in the comments
> 
> Mood: [You're The One- Kaytranada ft. Syd](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKlA5tRu6f0)  
> This was my 2018 jam! It's so good for a party, and the video is so 90's. Give it a listen.

She was naked. All around her, even under her feet was the pitch black of night, studded with silver stars. She started to walk, going no where and everywhere. There was no path. She could hear whispers from the stars, but she couldn't make out the words.

Before her, a large pair of eyes as big as clouds, opened within the night, shiny and wet. Dany stopped, looking up. "Quaithe" she said. It felt like greeting something of an old friend, though she'd never met the woman in the flesh.

Quaithe's eyes blinked, and her lids were stardust. The whispers around her became louder, so much louder; buzzing in her ears like fly wings. Dany wanted to cover her ears, but she held her arms at her sides. "What is it, Quaithe?" She didn't like this. She was frightened.

"Listen." Quaithe's voice seemed to boom and vibrate through her. "Be still." The giant eyes told her, loud in her head. The whispers started to make sense. "Betrayal." They said, " Beware", "Power", in the common tongue, in Valyrian and other queer languages she shouldn't have known. But she did. "Love, lust, hate, joy"

Dany wanted to scream that she didn't understand. The whispers were terrible, and they felt endless.

"Dragon." Quaithe's voice silenced all other sound. It felt nearly as deafening. "A kiss will save you. A love will curse you. Journey east to find your path west. "

Quaithe's enormous eyes blinked again. "What?" Dany asked, trying to keep up, but Quaithe kept on speaking.  
"You must release fire for freedom. Fire from venom and fire from blood. Beware the serpent."

 _The serpent_. Dany wanted to ask Quaithe more but the great eyes closed and the stars started bursting around her with whispers. They became flames that ate up the darkness and they surrounded her, closing in.   
  
She steeled herself to be brave and embrace the fire like before. She didn't burn. A hand grabbed her by the shoulder, spun her around, and she was face to face with the man made of ash. He was close now. But she couldn't make out his features. He pulled her to him and kissed her. He was warm. She opened her mouth to taste him. She heard the voice in her head, Quaithe.  "A kiss will save you." It echoed in her head. The man of ash kissed down her neck now. She let out a moan. He grabbed her shoulder again.

He shook it roughly. "Khaleesi" he said, but his voice was wrong. "Khaleesi!" He shook her more roughly. No. It wasn't him. Her shoulder was rocking side to side as she opened her eyes. Irri was standing over her, smiling.

"Irri." Dany croaked, her voice rough with sleep. Irri's hand was still on her shoulder. "I heard Khaleesi cry out."  The Dothraki woman said to her in her mother tongue. "You were thrashing."

Dany sat up in her bed. Irri was smiling at her. "Was it a nightmare, or a dream about your husband?" Husband. It  would be queer to refer to her brother as that. "Actually I forgot what it was about."

"Oh." Irri replied, bewildered. Then she grinned again. "Your silver husband will make you cry out louder tonite."

Dany gave her a weak smile but her stomach tightened into knots.

~~~

Brienne had been gone for a week, but Illyrio's manse was as busy and full as Daenerys had ever seen it. Illyrio set his slaves to serving, decorating, procuring exotic foods and spices, while maintaining the air of luxury for the Golden Company leaders. Dany tried her best staying out of the way, hiding in her room with her nose in her books.

But today she would have no respite. She broke her fast with her three handmaids, Irri, Jhiqui and Doreah. They were her gift from Illyrio, when Viserys still had plans to sell her to Khal Drogo. But the Khal had denied Dany, saying she wasn't womanly enough. Viserys was angry for weeks. She'd freed the three women, but they chose to stay with her. As they ate, she half listened to them gossip and bicker and squeal about the wedding and the handsome members of the Golden Company.

After their meal, her ladies cleared the food and dishes away and set out to prepare her for the wedding. They scrubbed her with sweet smelling soaps and oils. They washed and oiled her hair, then brushed it until it glittered like polished silver. They perfumed her. Dabbing the oil at her neck, behind her ears, between her breasts, and down there on her nether lips.

Then came the dress. It was a silky silver cloth that slid through Dany's fingers like water. When Jhiqui slipped it over her head, her hair blended in with the material. They adorned her with jewels; pale gold studded with deep purple amethysts, to bring out the colour in her eyes. They decked her with bracelets, a necklace, and on her head, a crown with a roaring dragon at the center.

When they were finished, the three women admired their work. "Khaleesi, you shine like a star!" Jhiqui exclaimed clapping her hands. The Dothraki women still called her Khaleesi, even though she  was not the wife of a Khal. Irri gave her a sly smile while Doreah sighed, "I hope I look as lovely on my wedding day."

Daenerys smiled and thanked her handmaids. They left her, to prepare themselves for the wedding, and Dany was happy to have a moment to herself. She sat on a chaise lounge near her patio and tried to read her book about the Kingsguard, but she found it hard to concentrate. Noises floated up to her from the grounds. She could hear Illyrio's silky tone, and occasionally Viserys would bark an order. She found herself remembering their days in Braavos, when they lived in the house with the red door. It was the only place that she'd considered home, and even now, the thought of it gave her little comfort.

The sky darkened and Dany's nerves unraveled more and more as the sun moved across the sky.  She was just getting some wine to soothe her nerves when a knock came at her door. It was Ser Arthur Dayne; there to escort her to the ceremony.

"You look beautiful, princess." He complimented her. Then he seemed to catch his slip and corrected himself. "I...I mean, my queen."

Daenerys smiled. "It's alright, Ser." She welcomed him in and went to her table. "Care to share a cup with me?" When he shook his head no, she shrugged and sipped from her own cup. He lingered at the door, seemingly not knowing what to do.

Dany wanted to laugh. But she knew it would be mean. Ser Arthur was always on edge, now that they'd reunited. After their first meeting with the Golden Company, Viserys had scolded him privately. He was not pleased that Dayne had fathered a son, when he should have been searching for them. It was then that Dayne had offered his son's personal service to their cause as well. It seemed to placate Viserys for the moment, but Dany found it strange. The man Jon Sand looked nothing like Dayne, and he had seemed none too pleased to have his sword offered. He was a mopey fellow, Danny had concluded about him.

"I have the jitters." Dany admitted to Ser Arthur, to break up their tension. He stepped into the room a little more. "It's to be expected. But you should think of this as just one more step to securing your thrown" he said officially.

"The throne. Hmmm." Was all Dany could manage, her thoughts trailing off. "Were you nervous when you were knighted as a Kingsguard?"

His eyes grew so sad at that. "I was elated." He told her. "I'm sorry pr-princess. But we really must get going."

She nodded, put down her cup, and took Dayne's offered hand. They made their way through the corridor. "It may be nothing princess," Dayne said to her as they strolled, "but I've been nervous from the moment I met you. I still can't believe you're real."

This made Dany smile and she squeezed his hand. "Real and reunited at last." She could do this. She knew it. _She had to._

~~~

The wedding was held outside on Illyrio's gorgeous garden grounds. It was as beautiful as a fantasy. Paper lights were strung up, torches were blazing, keeping them warm, and the summer flowers gave off a delicious smell. Daenerys had never been to a wedding, and in the back of her mind, it was hilarious that this was her first one. When Dayne left her side she was greeted by smiling faces and well wishers. All the magistrates of Pentos were there, as well as a vague noble face or two from when she, Viserys and Brienne were on the run. The leaders of the Golden Company wore their best; some of it gifts from Illyrio; and complimented her beauty and they called her queen. Dany's smile felt frozen in place as she said, "Thank you for being here." For the twentieth time. Then there was Viserys. He looked handsome; less gaunt and smiling. He kissed Dany's hand when she came to him, but it made her stomach twist in disgust. She knew to hide it.

They performed the ceremony under the tradition of the god R'hollor. A red priest had come to guide the proceedings. A fire pit had been dug. Viserys and Dany jumped over it, with their hands linked. "And now they join  together as one under the lords holy light." The red priest called to the crowd. The applaud was loud, around the courtyard, and even louder, with cheers and whistles when Viserys took Daenerys in his arms and kissed her.

The feel of him made her flesh crawl. When his tongue touched her lips, entreating entry, she broke the kiss as graciously as she could. Her brother was the happiest she'd ever seen him. "Later." He promised her, then raised their hands in the air to the cry of more cheers and whistles.

Daenerys had lived in luxury for two years, and never in that time had she tasted such exotic, exquisite food. Whole roasted lambs spiced with herbs and garlic, juicy boars ribs, aurochs roasted until they fell apart, snails in honey and garlic, soups of pumpkin and leeks and potato, different salads with strawberries, chickpeas, nuts, spinach, lemongrass and sweetgrass, the dishes kept on coming. The servants would offer Viserys the choicest portions first, then her, then they would serve the rest of the guests.

The spirits flowed just as abundantly as the water and fresh squeezed juice. Alcohol of every variety and from every major country was on offer. Viserys made her drink. Either offering her a taste of spicy rum from his own cup or ordering her to accept another drink. She was well and truly drunk after her fourth full cup and countless sipping.

He called for dancing once he was sufficiently full, and dragged Dany to the middle of the yard to join him. Every one else followed suit, partnering up. Illyrio had hired slave musicians to play drums, flute, fiddle and bells. The music was lively as Viserys swept Dany around.

"Are you pleased, sister?" Viserys asked her as they danced.

"I am..." Dany gave him her best smile. "And so happy." She lied.

"As am I. With you as my queen, our rule will put even our ancestors to shame." His hand squeezed her backside and she stiffened.

They traded partners then and Dany found herself with one of the Golden Company leaders. He gave her congratulations and compliments on her beauty, and made noises about helping her and her new husband regain their crowns. It was more of the same with her other dance partners; other members of the Golden Company, the magistrates of Pentos and the nobles of Essos that had thrown her and her family out and condemned them to fear and poverty.

Then she came face to face with Jon Sand, Arthur Dayne's sulky son. The moment he took her into his arms, she shuddered.  He was so _warm_. Dany found herself leaning into him. Jon was stiff as he lead her through the steps. "You look very beautiful." He said dutifully.

Daenerys couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes, but she thanked him nonetheless. He huffed out a quiet  laugh."Tired of hearing that?" He asked her.

She missed a step, then laughed aloud. "Is it so apparent?"

"I'd imagine its tedious work saying the same thing over and over again."

She pouted. "Maybe I should be more creative."

He laughed again and gazed at her. "It is true though. You are as beautiful as a dream."

Dany cheeks warmed. She looked up into his face. Purple eyes. She'd looked at him before, but now she was getting a really good look at him. He was pretty, she felt. Dark hair, a long face, and full lips. She wanted to say something witty and charming, so he could laugh again, but it was time to switch partners.

The gifts were so extravagant that Daenerys swore she and Viserys could have bought their own army with them. She was given gold and diamond jewelry, Myrish silks, rare spices, ornate carved vases, sculptures, a carpet, jade combs, furs, soft slippers, and silken smallclothes to last her for years. Viserys was given his weight in gifts, equally as splendid. Arthur Dayne and his son stepped forward to present their offerings.

"It's modest, your Grace, but it will serve you in the times to come." Dayne said to her with a bow. Dany unboxed the gift; it was a finely wrought steel breastplate, designed to fit her shape. Dany could have laughed, she was so excited. "I will make good use of this, Ser. Thank you for thinking of my safety." He smiled at that.

Jon came next. He hadn't wrapped his gift, nor did he put it in a fancy box. He laid it down delicately on the table before her. Daenerys picked it up as though it were an injured baby bird. It was a dagger; black as death with a serrated edge, but light in her palm. There were two amethysts in the leather-bound hilt.

Daenerys looked back at Jon. He was watching her so intensely it took her breath away. "Is this-?"

"Its dragonbone." Jon said to her, eyes burning. "Its simple, but its strong and light and will keep you safe."

She gave him a brilliant smile. "I will cherish this always. Thank you!" She told him wholeheartedly. And she meant it. When servants came to place it in the pile with the other gifts, Daenerys stopped them.

Next Illyrio presented his gifts, the most precious of all. Servants placed down a slender scabbard before Viserys. He took up the sword and slid it from the sheath.

"It took me years to procure, but it was the only blade that would do for a dragon king." Illyrio was saying.

Viserys stood up from his seat and held the sword up for everyone to see. "Blackfyre," Illyrio breathed. "The magnificent sword of your forebears."

Everyone clapped and gasped and twittered as Viserys said, "This will be the very sword that carves out the hearts of my enemies."

Next it was Dany's turn to receive a gift from Illyrio. Slaves placed a huge, gilded box before her. She knew it was special just by the look of it. There was a crackle of tense expectation in the air, and she could feel every heavy thud of her own heart. She lifted the solid gold latch.

Inside were three dragon's eggs, big as her torso. A black one, flecked with red. One green with bronze stripes, and a cream colored one, with a pattern of golden swirls. As she swiped a hand over one, Illyrio said, "Dragon's eggs from the Shadow Lands of Asshai. They are long turned to stone, but I pray that they will give you and your husband strength and foretell the coming of many sons."

The egg was warm to the touch. Dany reached into the box, wrapping her arms around the cream one. "Careful my  queen, those stone eggs are..." she lifted it up and cradled it like a child. "Heavy." Illyrio finished, giving her a bewildered look.

Daenerys hugged the egg to her body, absorbing the extreme heat, and filling herself with strength. And fire. It was only when Viserys tugged the skirt of her silk dress that Dany remembered herself and just where she was. Everyone was looking at her.

"Illyrio. You have given me the soul of house Targaryen. I am forever grateful." She told him finally, and all the guests cheered and whistled and clapped loudly.

There were many more gifts that were given, though they paled in comparison to Illyrio's. Viserys called for more dancing and drinking, and Dany was grateful he wasn't quite ready for the bedding. He even let her sit the dance out when she sweetly refused him, and swept Doreah into his arms. Dany couldn't stop touching them. They were all equally warm, smooth and scaled. They seemed to absorb the light coming from the torches and braziers and reflected it off their patterned surfaces.

"The eggs suit you." Jon's voice startled her out of her reverie.

She smiled looking up at him standing at a respectful, distance away from her table. "Do you take me as a hen, obsessed with my eggs?"

"A hen? No."

"But obsessed?" She laughed. Then she returned her gaze to them and touched. "They hypnotize me. They're so..."

An uncommonly warm hand found her shoulder. "Incredible." Jon breathed. His eyes looked so dark, they smoldered. The egg seemed to warm further beneath her palm. She panicked.  If Viserys saw him touching her they'd both be punished. "I need some air." She said abruptly, then rushed off into the manse.

~~~

Dany felt better after she relieved herself in the privy. She was wandering around one of Illyrio's immense balconies, and getting some air. Further off, she could hear the wedding guests in their revelry.

The bedding would come next, the moment she made her presence again, she knew. She wasn't ready for it. It had always been a strong probability that Dany would marry her brother, but she always found the custom to be wrong. Sick.

Her thoughts turned to the house with the red door. Would she ever know what it would be like to be truly home? Without scheming and the threat of death in every shadow?

"My queen." A voice said, as a servant stepped up beside her. "Are you unwell?" He asked, keeping his distance respectful.

Dany looked upon the man. He was one that she hadn't met before. "I'm fine. Just too much wine, I suppose." She told him.

In his hands was a ewer. "Illyrio sent me. To refresh you." He held out a cup and filled it for her.

"I've had too much wine." Dany told him politely, waving away his proffered hand.

He stepped closer. "It's only water, my queen. Have some. Cool your head."

She felt he was too close now. And there was something off about him. No golden collar, she thought, feeling her heart quicken. "I told you no."

He moved quickly then, grabbing her by the forearm and spinning her around. He trapped her to his body and forced the cup to her lips. "You will drink, dragon bitch!" He snarled against her hair. She twisted and scratched at him, though her arms were pinned to her body. She let out a screech.

There was the pounding sound of booted footsteps as poisoned water splashed across her face, then she was crashing to the ground on her side. The false servant was kicking and fighting as her rescuer subdued him.

She stood up clumsily to watch, and help if need be. It was Jon. He wrestled the man into a kneeling position, held him by the hair and pressed her dragonbone dagger to his throat.

Panting, Jon asked her, "Do you know who this man is?"

"I'm the man who will get his lordship. The poison passed her lips." The would-be assassin gloated, then he coughed and spit out his tooth at her.

Jon drew his arm back to open his throat, but Daenerys ordered him to stop. "Hold!" She stepped up to the killer and studied him a moment. _A kiss_. Quaithe's voice floated into her ears.

"Hold him still." Dany commanded. Then, ignoring Jon's bewildered look, she knelt down before the criminal. "Just do it!" He wailed. "I'm already dead!"

A cruelness filled her. "Oh there's more life in you yet." She gripped him by the chin and kissed him. It was a short thing; open-mouthed so he could taste her.

When she broke the kiss, the murderer gasped, "Delicious." Then his eyes trailed her body. "Your cunt next, I think. Sweetness to carry me to the after life."

She stood up and watched the dead man. He was braying about her dying soon. That his brothers would come after her for this. They'd fuck her bloody and tear out her throat, he said. Then he stopped talking. His mouth dropped open in a wordless scream. His eyes grew wide and white as boiled eggs. He inhaled a ragged breath, and as he exhaled, he seemed to age before her very eyes. His skin dried and shriveled and stretched against his bones. His hair became as white as the terror in his eyes. He trembled so violently that Jon had to let him go. The corpse collapsed face first into the ground. One more terrible tremor, one more ragged breath against the marble, and he was gone.

When Daenerys looked at Jon, she was devastated by the frightened look on his face. "How...how did you do that?" He asked her warily. He hadn't taken a step back, which she was grateful for. But the dagger was still clutched tightly in his hand.

She shook her head. "You mustn't tell. Please! We have to hide him." She begged, feeling tears well in her eyes. Jon nodded grimly. As he knelt to grab the body, he murmured, "I'm sworn to keep your secrets." She wasn't sure if he was being wry or not.

Together, they hoisted the shrunken man over the edge of the balcony and let him fall discretely into the foliage below.

When the deed was done, Jon surprised Dany by taking her arm in his. "Are you alright?" He asked. She nodded her head and asked him the same. Grimly, he gave her his assurance.

"I must take you back to safety." He told her. His demeanor was incomprehensible.

She felt like a feather. Weak, powerless and insecure. As they drew closer to the party,  Jon muttered to her, "Does that happen to every man you kiss?" She looked at his face. He was blushing?

She squeezed his hand. "Can we keep that as another secret?" He nodded, and gave her a small smile.

~~~

When they reached the party, arm in arm, Viserys was swaying and bellowing, "Wife! Where's my wife?" His eyes narrowed when they fell to Daenerys and Jon. Her sellsword disentangled himself from her.

Viserys grabbed her by the wrist possessively and held it up for the guests. "I've had my fill of food and celebration! I wish to bed my bride and pluck her flower!"

Whistles and catcalls rang from the crowd as servants sprinkled rose petals on the ground ahead of them. Viserys led Dany back to Illyrio's manse, while saucy wedding music chased behind them.

They stepped on rose petals all the way to a special wing that Illyrio had prepared for them. Their chambers were well lit with candles and braziers. The balcony door was open, and the curtains billowed inward with the wind.

She walked to the center of the room, taking it all in. Incense were burning. A stone bath in the middle of the room had been filled with steaming water and rose petals. And in a corner, placed upon a large pedestal, her dragon's eggs were framed with flaming candles.

"I've waited so long long for this, wife." Her brother spoke, breaking her contemplation. He crowded behind her, pressing his hardness into her back and smelling her hair.

She shivered. "Could we take a bath together first?" She asked him in a small voice.

"No." He turned her around and kissed her with all of his passion. She wanted to pull away, but she yielded, allowing his tongue to probe her mouth. "No." Viserys said again, slipping one dress strap off her shoulder. "I've waited too long." He sighed as the other strap fell. Then he tugged at the material about her waist,  and the dress pooled on the floor at her feet.

She fought her own instincts to not cover her her bare breasts with her hands. Viserys reached out and squeezed one, pulling at the nipple. She couldn't hide her grimace. He didn't seem to notice. His hand went down and cupped her sex, pressing through her small clothes. She shuddered again, fighting to keep the revulsion from her face.

"To the bed. Now, wife. I must have you." Viserys gasped. He pulled her to the great canopy and nudged her onto it. She was naked when he was ready, but he was still mostly, clothed when he climbed on top of her and forced himself in.

She let him take his pleasure of her, looking everywhere but at the side of his hair as he thrusted. She imagined starry eyes, a red door, and a man made of ash; and then her sight caught the dragon's eggs at the edge of the room. They drank the candle light. She watched them as her brother rutted on top of her, and imagined she was absorbing the fire in the same way.


End file.
